Inheritance Cycles On
by LyraPendragon13
Summary: Sometimes being trapped in the dark for so long does things to you. Apparently it takes a very gentle forgiving soul to tame a wrathful slightly crazed dragon.
1. Prologue

Okay, this is perhaps my most ambitious project yet. It's been percolating in my head on and off for about a year, possibly more. The idea is, I take likely pairs from anywhere and everywhere and stick them in the Inheritance universe as upcoming dragon riders. As it stands, Eragon left Alagaesia to parts undiscovered to re found the dragon riders, and that leaves plenty of room for adventure and random mishaps.

I foresee the involvement of many genre's and existing characters, so credit where it is due of course. I do not own the Inheritance Cycle nor How to Train Your Dragon or Yu-Gi-Oh!

Eragon strolled through the quiet hatchery in a mood of mild nostalgia, thinking of when he'd first laid eyes on Saphira's egg. The poor simple farm boy he'd been been back then could not have even begun to fathom the places he'd go, the thing's he'd do, just by simply touching what he'd thought was a rock. It had looked like a beautiful blue and white veined rock. Still, with all the knowledge of the pain and tears he'd shed in the Varden war, he'd still reach out and touch that precious egg. He'd felt the need to keep it even then, not even knowing that it held the life of his greatest most dearest friend inside.

Eragon shook off the old memories with a fond, though slightly grieved smile taking a moment to bask in the comfort Saphira offered immediately.

 _You are in the hatchery again,_ she thought to him in a distinctly teasing tone. _Little one, should I be jealous?_

 _Yes Saphira,_ he answered, playing along. _I am Eragon after all, I think a white Dragon would suit me better._

 _Good luck finding the materials for a new sword,_ was her tart reply. _Last I checked, Brisingr is blue, and I don't think the blade would take too kindly to being painted over._

 _Alas, paint is flammable,_ Eragon agreed in mock disappointment.

 _Indeed it is!_ Saphira sent back with altogether too much glee.

 _Saphira?_ Eragon inquired with alarm.

 _Nothing, little one,_ the dragon returned with suspicious haste.

 _Saphira._

 _Oh, its far too late to do anything about it now anyway,_ she conceded. _I'll let you see the memory later._

 _Good girl._

 _I can squish you,_ she gave him a fond mental growl before turning her attention back to her meal.

Eragon turned his attention back to the dim hatchery, mood sobering a little. He was currently standing in the main room where row upon row of unbonded dragon eggs sat waiting quietly to meet their best friends. These were the newest generation. Some of them even belonged to Saphira and Firnen though they only saw each other rarely. Originally, this room had housed the vault eggs, but with time, the dragons had hatched and bonded with a rider, and the next generation of eggs followed a few years after that building until they outnumbered the vault dragons. So the new generation had been moved forward to account for numbers and the remaining vault eggs now occupied the small back room, where Eragon was headed at the moment.

It had been over fifty years since the defeat of Galbatorix and his nightmare regime, and five of the vault dragon's remained stubbornly unhatched. Eragon pushed the door open and was unsurprised to find Professor Solomon Moto sitting on the floor with a ring of books scrolls and papers stacked around him in a seemingly haphazard manner. When the man wasn't teaching, he was in here 'keeping the poor lonely souls company.'

"Eragon," the man greeted happily enough, though his very presence betrayed his worry for the five unhatched dragons in the room. "I thought you'd be coming by today."

Eragon sighed heavily and sat down with the professor. "They will hatch," he said quietly.

Solomon glanced up from a decrepit history tome. "I know they will," he answered. "I cannot help but worry about their mental health. It's been hundred's of years Eragon. No creature should ever be trapped in a prison of their own bodies for so long. Even the dragon hearts agree and the oldest have gone to join their riders now that the threat to Alagaesia has passed. We know for a fact that they're all aware. Every single one of them."

"I know Solomon," Eragon said softly. "Believe me, I know."

He glanced at the table where the last five vault eggs were on careful display. Two were black, one veined with midnight blue, the other in violent red. One was a light blue veined in yellow and the forth was a gleaming white veined in blue. Eragon always hesitated at the last one. It stood out to him for some reason. It was an oddly metallic golden egg veined in purple/black depending on the lighting, and just by looking at it, he could almost swear he could feel anger coming off it in waves. Perhaps that one should remain unhatched. The more time he spent around it, the closer he came to this conclusion. He could only hope, that whoever this dragon was, he turned out to be a force for good.


	2. Wheeler

Hey, I'm so happy to have the second chapter up so fast. This story really is inspired. Or that's just how I feel about it. Anyway please enjoy.

I do not own The Inheritance Cycle, Yu-Gi-Oh, How to Train Your Dragon, or Rangers Apprentice.

Joseph Wheeler had always been one to dream big. Living in distant Hedarth made realizing those dreams marginally difficult. He had wanted to go enlist and become a part of Queen Nasuada's army leaving his hellish existence with his drunk father far behind. The problem was, the new capitol Belatona was across the Hadarac desert. He had neither the money nor the time to get the supplies needed to cross the hot sands. So, unless some generous soul came by and offered to take him there on their own money, he was out of luck.

Well to be honest, his real dream was to become a dragon rider, but his chances of getting that far were not only nil but laughable. That was why he'd never shared this particular dream with anyone. Okay, his sister knew, but she wasn't here anymore. Joey sighed as he stared at the sky above. It was mostly clear today, as it had been yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and- well, he lived on the edge of a desert. Not a lot of rain passed their way. Not even lying in the tall grass was helping him cool off today. Maybe Tristan would want to go fool around in the Edda River.

Joey was still trying to find the will to actually get up and find his friend when something large and shadowed hurtled past overhead. He sat up startled and alarmed only to gasp in awe at the sight of a huge yellow dragon. He stood up and ran after it a few steps only to give up as he realized the futility of that exercise. This was absolutely incredible! He'd never seen a dragon so close before, and it was beautiful. Its underbelly was a creamy yellow leading up into a slightly darker golden color towards its spine. A thrill of excitement shot through him like a bolt of lightning as he realized the dragon was headed towards town.

Joey took off running as his hopes began to rise that the magnificent creature would land in town. He'd never run so fast in his life.

The dragon had indeed landed in town. There was already a huge gathering in the square by the time Joey got there, but he was still able to squeeze through to the front of the crowd. The dragon was even more beautiful up close. The sun glinted off those golden scales making them look like a pile of gold coins, but best of all, he was close enough to see that there was actually a black stripe along the dragon's spine. It was a bit lost under the black saddle and the fold of its great wings but the stripe continued all the way to the tip of its long tail.

"Wow!" he breathed. Dragons were everything he'd imagined and more. His heart swelled with joy and he was walking forward before he even knew what he as doing.

The dragon made a deep rumbling noise as it turned and for a breath taking moment looked straight into his eyes. No, not it, she. The dragon was a she.

"Wonder what your name is," he murmured.

 _Blaze._

Joey startled at the rich female voice he'd just heard, and startled again at the chuckle just to his right. He turned to see a tall man with slightly wild but close cut blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled with mirth. He wore simple clothes underneath an odd mottled green, gray, brown cloak. There was a sword at his hip and a bow slung over his shoulder.

"It's not often she gives out her name to strangers," the man said. "She likes you. Tell me your name young man."

"Joey, uh- Joseph Wheeler, but most people call me Joey," he stammered.

"I'm Gilan," the stranger said reaching out to shake hands with him. "Nice to meet you Joey. Maybe I'll see you around, though perhaps you could do me the favor of pointing me towards your mayor?"

Joey glanced around in slight panic until he caught sight of the old man. His expression was absolutely mortified. He drew a finger swiftly across his throat with a venomous glare and Joey gulped. Whelp, he'd be staying out of town for a few days.

"He's there," Joey said pointing at the man. "Mayor Wilks."

Gilan clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man." Then he walked away.

Joey had just resolved to run off and make himself scarce when he chanced to glance back at the dragon. She was still looking at him, her golden brown eyes twinkling with intelligence and knowledge.

 _See you later, Joey._

The dragon moved off to follow Gilan and Joey realized with a jolt of surprise that the man had been her rider. He glanced at the rider and watched him greet the mayor.

"I see you met Joey," Wilks said. "Son of the town Cartwright and drunk. Sorry about that."

Anger flared in him at the mayor's harsh words. He didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. First dragon and rider he ever meets and the _mayor_ just has to go bad mouthing him. He was tackled suddenly from behind and Joey almost took a swing at the culprit until he realized it was Tristan.

"Joey you lucky son of a-"

"Drunk?" Joey finished for him bitterly.

Tristan pulled back with a slightly hurt glare. "What, I thought nothing would wipe the smile off your face after an encounter like that!"

"Yeah, until Wilks has to go spilling it that I'm the son of the town's black sheep," Joey raged. "I'd stay away from me for a while Tristan. I know for sure Wilks is gonna send his goons to come teach me my place again."

"I could help," Tristan offered.

"You and me against five trained thugs," Joey said. "Yeah I think I'll pass. Look I'll just stay outa town for a few days."

"But Joey," Tristan said darkly. "He'll be furious."

Joey turned and put a hand on his friend's shoulder halting their slow amble. "Better one furious drunk than five sober goons."

Tristan sighed and took a step back, letting his concern for his friend shine through in his expression for once. "Watch yourself Joey," Tristan told him seriously.

Joey smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder appreciatively. "You too," he said before running off.

Over the next few days, Joey would watch two more dragons join Blaze and her rider. There was a dusty silver one even larger than Blaze and a bronze tan made up the smallest of the group. Their riders were all trained fighters, though the youngest of the group seemed like more of an apprentice still. All three wore the same strangely mottled cloaks, and he'd found out why they wore them. He'd once watched the oldest of their party take off for the forest and as he got further into the trees it was like he just sort of... faded. It wasn't that he had turned invisible, it was just almost impossible to see him. These guys had some serious skill.

Joey was too busy avoiding the mayor's thugs and his drunk father to hear any news of why there were so many dragon riders visiting the town. He figured it was a question that simply would never be answered, at least, not for him. This whole situation was just cementing just how trapped he really was. There was just no possible way he'd ever become a dragon rider, and there was just no possible way he could ever go to Belatona and become one of Nasuada's soldiers. He'd be stuck in Hedarth forever, and become the next Cartwright and town drunk.

It was his worst fear; to fall into the same path of his father and lose himself to a constant and angry drunken haze. But he simply could not let himself give up hope yet. It would mean surrendering to the agony of being a no good waste of space who would be lost in the folds of time with not a soul to morn his passing. Yeah, that was what fate had in store for one Joey Wheeler. At least he could choose to never put any children through this hell. No, he would die alone and unloved, and as long as it was just him, that would be fine. For now though...

Joey grinned widely from his position up in a tree. He supposed it wasn't too wise to be climbing trees in the dead of night, but this was definitely worth it. His constant snooping had uncovered where the dragon's had been bedding down for the duration of their stay. The three were scattered around in a large clearing, sleeping or merely resting. Blaze was closest to him from his position. It would be nice to get close to her again, hear the deep swoosh of her breath, feel the warmth coming off her scales. It would be nice to imagine just for a while that Blaze was _his_ dragon.

Heart in his throat, Joey climbed out of the tree and began creeping up to the clearing. The moon was striking white sparks off of Blaze's dazzling coat and he longed to run a hand over her scales. Were they as smooth as they looked? Were they sharp? There was a sharp snap and Joey startled, glancing sharply down at the twig he'd just stepped on and broke. When he looked up, Blaze was staring straight at him. He couldn't tell if she was angry or not.

"Heh heh, sorry," he said nervously. Well this whole thing had been a mistake. "I'll just g-."

 _Joey._

He paused frozen at the idea that a _dragon_ had taken the time to learn his name.

"Uh, yeah?"

 _Come sit with me_ , she requested lightly. _Gilan has a question for you_.

"He does?" Joey asked apprehensively. Well, he was in trouble.

The dragon rolled onto her feet with a low rumble, but she did not stand up as Joey had been expecting.

 _You are not in trouble_ , she assured him.

"We just wanted to offer you an opportunity," Gilan said from behind him.

Joey jumped about a foot in the air in shock and surprise. He turned to look aghast at the tall man.

"How would you like the chance to become a dragon rider?"


	3. The Vikings

And that's three chapters in as many days, I am so proud of myself right now. This story feels like its growing out of control. Lets see where it goes.

I do not own The Inheritance Cycle, Yu-Gi-Oh, How to Train Your Dragon, Rangers Apprentice, or Howl's Moving Castle.

This is Berk. A village of sea raiders who dared to spit at the elves of Du Weldenvarden and pillage tough locations such as the Spine. They clashed horribly with the urgals and given their average weight height and general size, usually gave as good as given. Usually. Astrid and Hiccup were a couple of exceptions to this average. To say that Stoick the Vast, leader of these rough huge vikings, was ashamed of his only son and heir was an understatement. Hiccup was tiny. The most common analogy was a fish bone next to a whale. Astrid was right there with him despite how mean she had gotten over the years.

Being as small as they were next to accepted viking standards meant taking a lot of mockery and general abuse. Astrid's plan to deal with it all was to be meaner than everybody and make them pay for every drop of blood taken. Hiccup? Well. He had given up a long time ago. Personally, he thought he'd gotten the better end of the deal. If he made himself seem weird enough, people left him alone. His affinity for magic and small vocabulary of elvish words helped and he had gotten good at avoiding trouble over the years. How could trouble find you if it quite literally could not find you? That was the phrase he lived by for most of his life.

He worried for Astrid though. The girl was barely taller than him and was constantly covered in scrapes and bruises. Just this week she'd gotten yet another black eye, the one before having just healed. She was also hiding a limp. Hiccup could only hope it was a sprained ankle and nothing worse. What worried him most though was that the constant burning light of Astrid's spirit was dying. He could see it fading day by day, week by week. She was losing hope. Hiccup had already been there and did not want to see that same look in her bright blue eyes echoed back at him. He'd been feeling an urgency over this situation for some time now.

Then that very afternoon, the dragon rider came. It had been a tense situation, but the rider had just barely gotten it across that he just wanted to talk. The vikings had allowed him into the feast hall where Hiccup was lurking behind a wall covering just trying to keep himself fed in peace. He had seen the dragon of course and was suppressing his dangerously burning curiosity. It was a beautiful red gold beast and his rider seemed equally elegant. He was here in the hall and was about to address the vikings.

He stood up, his red coat hanging off his shoulders by the collar.

"Vikings, warriors," he said with a sweeping bow. "My name is Howl Pendragon. I am a dragon rider and I have come to represent New Vroengard. I am on a quest you see to find exceptional people who might wish to join our ranks. We are in terrible need of riders for the many dragons that have yet to hatch, and once the dragon is hatched, it is not even a necessity that you join us. You could simply come back here and live out the rest of your life. The fact of the matter is, the dragons are still in trouble with their numbers being so few, so you need not worry about any strings attached."

The hall was silent in disapproval as Hiccup had known it would be. Vikings did not trust anyone, because they themselves could not be trusted. It was a tiring way to live.

"You say there would be no strings attached," Stoick said standing up. "But there always are. If we did send a few of our warriors, what promise could you give us that they would return? And what of the Dragon Riders?" he spat. "Would they be so willing to give us our privacy if they knew we had dragons up here? I do not think so."

Hiccup was surprised when Howl, as he called himself, did not storm out of the hall shouting curses at the lot of them. In fact he smiled instead.

"I suppose I shall have to leave the offer open then, to any individuals who want to see a little more of the world," Howl said almost cryptically. The man turned and seemed to stare straight at him for a moment and Hiccup shivered, knowing he'd been discovered.

"I'll be leaving this place at sun down, once my dragon has rested," he said and moved to stride regally out of the hall. The moment the door closed Stoick spoke again. "Anyone who tries to leave will be killed on the spot."

Hiccup's heart was racing. This was it. His best and probably last chance to get out of this place. He could hardly believe it. _Astrid needs to know about this_. The boy began edging towards the doors. There was no time to lose.

oOoOoOo

Astrid was in her usual place. There was a clearing in the foresty area just outside of Berk. Usually, she'd be practicing with her axe, but she was just sitting on the forest floor, hugging the weapon silently. Her eyes were oddly blank, and she usually called him out on sneaking up on her about now.

"Astrid?" he asked cautiously.

She didn't even blink.

"Astrid!" he tried again, coming to sit down in front of her.

"Hiccup," she said dispassionately, not really looking at him.

Hiccup gasped as horror filled him. He knew this look. When had this-? Her spirit was gone, broken. What could've-?

"Stoick spoke to me today," she said slowly. "He said I can't be a shield maiden, that he was never going to let me in the first place. He said I was too small."

"Oh Thor, Astrid," he said. "I'm so sorry."

She looked at him then, actually looked and there were tears in her eyes. "That's not even the worst of it," she said fighting back a sob.

Hiccup leaned forward onto his knees, ready to pull her into a hug. "What?"

"I am to be wed," she said, her voice breaking despite her efforts. "To Snotlout."

 _To Snotlout?_ Terror and grief gripped his heart, that brute was responsible for more than half the bruises and cuts that covered her body. This was something that could never come to pass. They had to leave. That was all there was to it.

Hiccup leaned forward and pulled the girl into his arms. "Astrid?" he said quietly. "We're leaving. Together. A Dragon Rider came today offering to take people to New Vroengard. Even if neither of us end up with dragons, anywhere has got to be better than here!"

Astrid sniffed, "Hiccup? What are you talking about?"

"You never saw Howl or his dragon did you?" Hiccup said with growing excitement. "We can leave Astrid! We can start over somewhere else where people don't hate us on sight. You can have your chance of being a shield maiden still!"

She pushed him away then, slight anger entering her eyes. "But Hiccup," she said. "We can't just leave! Where's the loyalty or honor in that?"

Hiccup's temper finally boiled over. "Give me a break would you?!" he nearly shouted.

Astrid could only stare up at him in shock.

He pointed at the village. "Since when have they _ever_ given us a reason to be loyal?! Tell me how many vikings are loyal to you! Tell me how many vikings have ever honored you! Not a single one! You deserve more Astrid! You deserve so much more! You are beautiful, and fierce and loyal and honorable! More so than anyone I have ever met!"

Hiccup stopped for a moment looking down into Astrid's wide blue eyes. He was breathing hard and he discovered tears in his own eyes. "You deserve more than Snotlout," he said quietly. He looked away then, wondering if he'd gone too far.

"Sounds like you have a plan," Astrid said.

Hiccup looked back at her in surprise. Astrid stood up and met his gaze. Hiccup smiled. Her fire was back. It was down to a couple of sparks but it was there, and it made her Astrid.

"Howl is leaving at sundown," he said. "How well can you sneak?"


	4. The Brothers Kaiba

Thank you Phantombrat, for your continued support and interest in my story. Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, everyone. I hope you continue to enjoy this crazy idea of a story.

I do not own The Inheritance Cycle, Yu-Gi-Oh, How to Train Your Dragon, Rangers Apprentice, Howl's Moving Castle, or Rurouni Kenshin.

Seto knew for a fact that Noa liked to watch when he was being beaten. Life was never pleasant when your main occupation in life was to be a whipping boy for somebody else. It was especially hard when that somebody else just happened to be the demonic spawn from hell. Seto held back another cry as the lash fell across his back again, and again. This was the third beating today and Seto was in very poor spirits. At least they weren't making Mokuba watch this time. He caught Noa's eyes and poured all his rage into that single look. Noa faltered for an instance before smiling smugly back. That's right. Noa was untouchable. If he tried anything, he and his brother would find themselves out in the street, dead, or worse.

Lord Gozaburo Kaiba was as strict as he was greedy when it came to the brothers he'd adopted. He had always been like that. Kaiba had known from the start that Gozaburo had only adopted him and Mokuba because Noa had been born so sickly. Lady Kaiba had died in childbirth, and Noa barely survived, but his health had been broken from the beginning. Fearing for his line, Lord Gozaburo had jumped to adopt his two nephews when his brother and his brother's wife died. Noa was confined to bed for most of his childhood until a traveling elf took pity on him and healed him with magic. With Noa gaining in strength every day the lives of the brothers had taken a sharp down hill turn. Lord Kaiba was very protective of his only child and would have no hand raised against him, no matter how much he deserved it, so Seto had the honor of being the whipping boy.

The lash was about to fall again when somebody spoke up, "I believe that is enough now, that it is."

Everyone turned to look at the odd new comer. He had striking red hair that was bound in a long pony tail at the nape of his neck. There was a cross shaped scar on his left cheek. He was also tiny. Seto was sure if they stood side by side, he'd already be at the man's shoulder, despite only being fourteen.

The servant stared at him slightly aghast. "But the standard lashing is-."

"It would not matter how many times you struck that poor innocent boy," the stranger said sadly. "The guilty party is unmoved by all this I think."

The servant hesitated, and Seto glanced up in surprise. Noa came forward looking angry. "Who are you to interfere with the business of young master Kaiba?" he demanded.

"I'm merely a wanderer," he said. "A wanderer who can't stand foolish and unnecessary cruelty, that I cannot."

The servant lowered his rod, looking very much like he wanted to be quit of this whole affair. Seto didn't blame him.

The stranger came forward and carefully pulled the shirt down over his sore back and gave him a hand up. He didn't let go at first and Seto almost pulled away, but stopped when a wave of dizziness crashed over him. That's right, this was the third beating today.

"Easy there young man," the stranger murmured just loud enough for Seto to hear. Once Seto was standing on his own, he moved off and faced the indignant master Noa.

"As pleasant as this all has been," the man started. "I wonder if I could have an audience with Lord Gozaburo himself. I have a-."

"You think you can just waltz in here and demand things of me?" Noa spat. "And you want an audience with my _father?_ How dare you be so-!"

"Well I guess the matter is already settled then, that it is," the wanderer said, turning to walk away. "I was going to speak to your father about giving his sons a chance to become dragon riders, but I guess I can't now that you've forbidden me to see him."

"Wait what?!" Noa shouted.

Seto felt a thrill of excitement go through him, the stranger had said the sons, plural, as in Noa, but himself and Mokuba too. No, it was too good to be true. He stomped down on the rising hopes. Gozaburo would never agree to this. Noa always came first.

"You're from New Vroengard?!" Noa was saying. "Why didn't you say so? You're a dragon rider aren't you!"

"I didn't think I'd need to say anything to earn common civility from another human," the stranger said lightly. "It seems the tyrant's influence will take even more time to fade then I thought. But yes, I am a dragon rider, and I am here to represent New Vroengard on a matter of importance."

The look on Noa's face was priceless at the gently given harsh reprisal. But his selfishness won out over his pride. "You shall see my father at once."

"Not before this young man's injuries are treated," the man said. "We can spare the time that we can."

"I appreciate your offer, sir" Seto said quietly. "But I am fine on my own."

"I apologize," the man said at once and it was strangely genuine. "It seems I have underestimated you, and I will not make that mistake again. Let me start over. I am Kenshin Himura, that I am."

Seto glanced distrustfully at the hand offered to him. It was a small hand, but the callouses on his palm were unmistakeable. This man was a swordsman. Seto took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Seto Kaiba," he murmured quietly.

"Nice to meet you, master Seto," Kenshin said. "Now if you'd like, we can look to your injuries before we go talk to Lord Gozaburo. But if you insist that you are fine, I will not disrespect you further by asking again."

Seto almost smiled. This man was playing a dangerous game. It all hinged on his offer of a dragon. Noa didn't dare do anything to drive Kenshin off, and at the same time the dragon rider was neglecting to give the boy the full amount of respect the brat was so certain he deserved. That and for once he himself was being treated civily.

Seto squared his shoulders (ow) and looked this strange man in the eye. "Thank you Kenshin Himura, I am fine."

Kenshin gave him a slightly knowing smile but did not press any further. "I suppose then, it's time to speak to your Lord father, Noa."

"Uh, yes," Noa said stiffly.

Seto smiled, the other boy was absolutely livid, and couldn't do a thing about it. Noa lead them from the small courtyard towards the main hall of the castle. His father was indeed holding a public audience at this very moment and would probably like the change of pace that this Dragon Rider brought.

"Just go through those doors," Noa told him. "I'll see to it that our herald usher's you to the front of the line."

Noa ran off before Kenshin could protest.

"But I don't need this kind of favoritism," he whined, looking embarrassed.

"Don't be too flattered," Seto said sourly. "He's only 'helping' you because you have something he wants."

"I know his type, that I do," Kenshin said grimly. "And no doubt, his father is just like him."

"Then why are you even here?" Seto asked. "If you're looking for dragon riders than you're in the wrong place."

Kenshin stopped and looked him in the eye again, and Seto noticed with a start that his eyes were actually a light violet.

"Seto Kaiba," he said. "Answer me this question. Are you happy where you are now? Is this where you want to be?"

Seto frowned. "Of course not."

Kenshin smiled and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Then I am right where I need to be," the dragon rider said. "That I am."


	5. Last But Not Least

There. This is the last introductory chapter, now things can start getting interesting. Thanks for your patience everyone.

I do not own The Inheritance Cycle, Yu-Gi-Oh, How to Train Your Dragon, Rangers Apprentice, Howl's Moving Castle, or Rurouni Kenshin.

Arya, daughter of Queen Islanzadi and King Evander, shade and dragon slayer, reserved her hatred for the things in life that were truly vile. General filth was certainly on the list, and probably the most commonly occurring. Shades were definitely ranked first on the scale with the ra'zac following as a close second. Tyrants were on there but the initial burning hatred was much faded now, due to Galbatorix's defeat in the last sixty years or so, but old deep wounds were often slow to heal. Among that group of hated things were slavers.

Arya hated slavers. She found everything that went with the idea of slavery to be absolutely evil, especially the deprivation of one's free will. It got exponentially worse when magic was involved, and it came with great sadness to understand that her own language often made it easier for these evil people. So when she ran across these slavers, they received no mercy.

The elf gazed around at the destruction she'd just wrought with slightly grudging satisfaction. She should not have enjoyed that as much as she had, but putting fear into the hearts of those who made a living off of doing just that had a certain amount of poetic justice to it. Firnen snorted softly to her left as he picked up on her conflicting emotions.

 _Feel no pity for these ones_ , he said. _Their fates were decided when they chose this path. If you had not been the one to deliver it to them, then another would have, and may not have made it so quick. For all your wrath, and the fear you brought to them, this death many would think was far too merciful._

 _You're right of course Firnen,_ Arya agreed. _They had children._

Firnen turned towards the slaver's cart, his nose twitching slightly as he tested the air. _And they are terrified,_ he said and turned to give them some distance. _Be careful Arya._

 _I will Firnen._

The elf turned to where she could sense the terrified souls hiding under the slaver's cart. The bodies of five dead slavers surrounded the scene and Arya spoke a few quick words in elvish and the ground opened up and swallowed them. Next, she sat down right where she was and dug into her travel pack, quickly finding the food she had with her. Setting out a small cloth, she then spread out the bread, cheese and fruit she had. There was even a small bottle of juice.

"So much food," she said despairingly. "However shall I hope to eat this all by myself? If only there was some one around to share it with."

She didn't have to wait long. A couple of boys peeked out from underneath the cart, eyes shining with hunger. They did not venture out of their shelter, the fear holding them was too strong. So Arya reached out with her mind and gently began to undermine that fear. She remembered the security she felt as a child in the arms of her mother and father and shared the feeling with them. The effect was immediate which surprised her. Both the boys began to cry, and they wasted not a moment to rush over and throw themselves into her arms. She held them and rocked them gently wiping away their tears and assuring them that they were safe.

 _Firnen,_ she called. _I think you can approach now, though do so slowly._

Both of these boys had very striking appearances. One, she'd thought was albino until she saw his chocolate brown eyes. Aside from that, everything else about him was white. The other seemed just as fair, but he had a mop of dirty hair that seemed dark for the most part, except for his bangs, which seemed blond. It was hard to tell under all the dirt and grime. They were clothed in fraying rags that seemed to be made of more hope than cloth. Firnen settled in behind them, his bulk and wings sheltering them from the wind. Warmth radiated from his body and the boys seemed to want to curl up against him. It was cold out.

"This is Firnen," Arya told them. "And he loves little children."

"He doesn't wanna eat us?" the white one asked in a whisper.

"Of course not," Arya said. "It would make him sad. You can cheer him up by snuggling with him."

Both boys moved with a mixture of caution and eagerness as they pressed themselves against Firnen's warm green hide. Arya handed them each some bread and cheese, cautioning them to eat slowly. Neither of them could do it. They held the food with shaking hands and they ate like the starved children they were. She held off on giving them juice and gave them some water instead. Soon, they were too full to eat another bite, and Arya should not have been surprised by how much food was left. After starving for so long, they wouldn't be able to eat much.

They sat for a time and the one with dark hair nodded off, still leaning against her shoulder.

"Can you tell me your names?" she asked the white one. "I'm Arya."

"I'm Ryou," the white one said quietly. "And that's Yugi, he doesn't talk much. They already had him when they got me."

"Can you tell me where you're from?" she asked.

Ryou went silent and looked down, the wave of grief she felt from him almost bringing tears to her own eyes. "Kul Elna," he said.

Arya froze as horror gripped her. Kul Elna had been ransacked by a rogue band of Urgals. They'd left no survivors, save one apparently.

"Oh Ryou," she said, her heart breaking for the orphaned child. "I'm so sorry." She pulled him into a hug and he sobbed quietly for a bit, but he calmed and pulled away.

"What's gonna happen to us now?" he asked. "You... got the bad guys, but does that mean I have to go back to the orphanage? They didn't want me, they said no one would want me, and they let the slavers have me. I don't wanna go back there."

"And you wont," Arya reassured him. "I know a great place for you, you'll love it there. But Yugi should go back to his parents if he-."

"His parents didn't want him either," Ryou said quickly. "He told me. They used to hit him just like the slavers do. That's why he doesn't cry anymore when it hurts. You wont make him go back there will you?"

Arya glanced at the other boy in shock. No wonder he doesn't say much. No one in his life ever listened. Cold rage boiled up in her heart on his behalf.

"Thank you for telling me, Ryou," she said. "No, he doesn't have to go back."

"Good," Ryou said. "It's bad to hit... good people."

"It's especially bad to hit little children," she said. "How old are you two anyway?"

"I'm not sure about Yugi," Ryou said. "But I'm ten."

"Well Ryou," she said. "How would you like to travel far away from this place?"

"We can do that?" he asked, eyes beginning to shine with excitement.

"Yes we can," she said, then pointed up at Firnen's wings. "See these wings here? They aren't just for show."

"Are we gonna fly?!" he exclaimed bubbling over with enthusiasm.

"Yes we are," Arya told him, hugging both boys close. "Straight to New Vroengard."


End file.
